


Hide And Seek

by Glowstickia



Series: Echoes of You [15]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Implied Decapitation, Minor Character Death, Prompt Fill, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26092318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glowstickia/pseuds/Glowstickia
Summary: While Deacon was distracted by a broken mirror, Echo took the opportunity to try out a fun lil stealth game. Turns out, something else was stalking them as well.
Relationships: Deacon (Fallout) & Original Female Character(s)
Series: Echoes of You [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718185
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	Hide And Seek

**Author's Note:**

> Used the fun [sensory prompts list](https://falloutglow.tumblr.com/post/626392083072221184/64-sensory-prompts) for this one.~
> 
> 20\. Reflections in glass

Deacon whistled from across the room. “Somebody had seven years bad luck.”

Echo rolled her eyes as she closed another dresser drawer. “Pretty sure the whole world did, Deeks.” She looked over as Deacon placed his hands on his hips in front of a large, floor length mirror. Cracks tore through the mirror, leaving jagged edges and sharp glass in its wake. Shards glistened in the morning light on the floor, leaving a void in the upper right corner of the mirror.

Deacon rubbed his chin and hummed. He leaned closer to the mirror, studying himself. Echo took the moment to slowly inch her way closer, avoiding the debris and _hopefully_ his line of sight in the mirror. He leaned back and grinned. “You know, you can do better than that.”

 _Caught...unless._ She glanced at the mirror. _The angle of it with the cracks...maybe he hadn’t? If she spoke, then he’d know immediately where she was. She’d have lost the impromptu game when it had just begun._ She kept her slow momentum, still moving and tracking Deacon’s sunglasses. _Sucked she couldn’t see his eyes, but then again, he couldn’t see hers either._

Deacon’s grin widened. “Oh ho, silent treatment?” He placed a fist against his cheek and leaned against it. “My little sprout is growing.” He sniffed and wiped an imaginary tear from under his sunglasses.

Echo’s eyes darted to the nearby chair still covered in a moth eaten sheet. She smirked and ducked behind it when she heard the floorboards shift. 

“Hmmmmm,” Deacon’s voice carried from across the room, “Marco!” He hollered out. Echo rolled her eyes as she thinned her lips and peeked around the chair. Deacon tapped his foot as he looked around the room. “Oh, I see, I guess I’m talking to an empty room!”

Echo bit her lip, holding back laughter from coming out. _Good gods he’s such a ham. But fuck, where the hell would she go?_ She glanced at the debris between her and the mirror. She smirked to herself as an idea clicked on in her mind. _Something her brother could do… Yeah, she could try her hand at it. That could work._ Her fingers gently curled around a piece of broken concrete. As soon as Deacon’s back was turned, she licked her lips, aimed for the other room and chucked it.

Deacon turned towards the sound and frowned. “Hmm, a rock? Really?” he shook his head, _“Soooo_ disappointing Bullseye-”

 _“Really?_ ” She said, cupping her hands around her mouth, hoping her voice was being ‘ _thrown’_ properly. _“You gonna come say that to my face?_ ” 

She lowered her hands and stood still, waiting patiently until she heard the shifting floorboards and Deacon’s voice growing distant. “Oh, my dear sweet-”

She peeked out from behind the chair and made a mad dash for the mirror. Was it dumb? _Yes_ . Was it risky? _Yep_. But she held her breath, or tried to quiet it as much as possible while she waited behind the mirror. It wasn’t the best hiding spot in the world of course, but no way in hell would she waste a Stealth Boy on an impromptu game.

She frowned.

_But...Deacon might._

Her eyes darted to the shards of the mirror barely in her view. They glimmered like the diamonds she’d seen in ads of pre-war magazines. Too bad she didn’t have a means of another distraction to throw him off.

The floorboards creaked.

Echo bit her lip. All was silent. _Weird. Where was his banter?_ He wasn’t throwing jokes or pre-war references or-. Her eyes widened as a figure dressed in black appeared in the chunk of mirror on the floor. That...was definitely _not_ Deacon.

Her heart thrummed loudly in her chest. _Was that-a fuckin courser?_ She swallowed and held still. _Patience. Keep silent. Be still._ Her mind raced. _Where was Deacon and how the hell was she going to survive this?_

Echo chewed on her lip as she _felt_ the presence of the courser walk closer. She wanted to _hope_ that this was some cruel prank devised by The Railroad as a means of testing their newest heavy, but the sinking worry in her gut told her otherwise.

The courser’s shadow moved across the floor as they silently walked towards the mirror. They clicked their tongue. “Sad. Another delicate piece taken by the surface. Pity.”

_Click._

The hum of a laser pistol charging sent chills down Echo’s spine. _Oh. Shit._

“I wonder,” the courser said in their monotone voice, “how well glass reflects a-”

_Bang_

Echo jumped.

The courser hissed. “You-”

_Bang_

Echo ducked as her hands fumbled for Deliverer, hidden inside her jacket. _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ Pistol in hand and ready she heard the firing of a laser pistol. And cursing. Lots of cursing.

Echo looked down and saw black boots. She fired once at the boots. And then kicked the bottom of the mirror. She jumped to the side. The mirror swung up. The courser yelled.

Echo aimed. And fired again.

Courser stumbled. Red started spilling from their left temple. She clipped them.

The white laser pistol was aimed at her. A scowl was on Courser’s face.

She fired again.

Echo quickly backtracked to put distance between her and the courser. Courser didn’t flinch. So. Echo fired again and again.

Silent bullets made their marks, yet didn’t deter Courser in the slightest.

_Bang_

Blood splattered as a bullet tore through the black jacket. Courser’s arm hung limp at their side. One less arm to worry about.

Deacon stepped into the room, combat shotgun in hands and a scowl on his face. “Bullseye.”

Courser aimed at him with one hand. Deacon spun and took cover behind the door frame. Echo found her own cover behind another sheet covered chair as laser fire flashed. She took the moment to reload.

Each energy cartridge typically held 30 charges…

The laser stopped. Something hit the ground.

She popped up and fired.

_Bang_

The laser pistol clattered to the ground as Courser sank to their knees. Deacon fired again _Bang_ for good measure.

Echo’s hands trembled as she let out her breath and loosened her grip on her pistol. She slowly walked forward, eyes and Deliverer still trained on Courser as she kicked the laser pistol behind her. She grimaced as Deacon squatted by the body and checked the courser’s pulse.

“Well Bullseye, looks like we got at _corpse_ r on our hands.”

Echo groaned. “Dude, that was bad.” She shook her head as she put Deliverer away. She stretched her arms while Deacon began checking the pockets of the courser. He was abnormally quiet. To give him space, she walked over to the laser pistol and picked it up. It was still warm.

She clicked it off and turned it over in her hands. It...looked new. Much like the ones she had gotten off of the gen ones from Fort Hagen or Arcjet or -. She tapped the plastic with her nails. _Why were they always so hostile?_

“Bullseye,” Deacon said, before tossing her a few energy cells. She fumbled, but caught them all the same. “How squeamish are you?”

She frowned for a moment. “Why are you asking?”

He sighed as he stood, grunting and stretching on the way up. He tapped his temple with his index finger.“Each synth has a little component in their noggin-”

“That contains data. Which is why the gen 3’s we help can’t physically talk about the Institute so freely.” She nodded, “I remember.” She glanced down at the courser as she shoved the energy cells in a pocket on her belt.

“Coursers are a _bit_ different.” He cleared his throat. “They have a, uh,” he rolled his wrist, “very delicate chip. The info it contains is typically encrypted, _but_ -”

“Tinker Tom,” she licked her lips as her eyes darted to the broken window. The sunshine outside was still trickling into the room. “We don’t have much time, do we?”

Deacon grinned. “Nope! Not really.”

She stared at the courser then back at Deacon as the weight of what he informed her nestled its way in. She did _not_ like what he was implying. “I. Hate. This. I hate this a lot.” She shuddered, “Grab...one of the-no several of those covers. I’ll...grab my bag.”

Deacon saluted her. “Aye, aye, Boss.” She snorted as she walked back over to the dresser. He kept talking. “It’ll just be like the French Revolution. Or the Red Queen.”

Echo groaned as she picked up and shouldered her bag. “Yeah, yeah,” she rolled her eyes, “off with their head.”

Deacon tugged the sheet off a chair, sending hundreds of years of dust into the air. “I was gonna say something like,” he coughed, and waved the dust away from his face, “ _Heads will roll._ ” he said in his announcer voice while his hands made quick work folding the sheet, “But that works too.”

She shoved the laser pistol into her bag and sighed loudly. “Glad you’re alive and still cracking jokes.”

He stared at her. Face emotionless and unreadable behind the blackened sheen of his sunglasses when a Cheshire cat like smile over took his face. “Awww,” he placed a hand over his chest, “and here I thought you despised my guts.” She rolled her eyes at his joke. “Who’d’ve thought all it took was being a total nuisance.”

“And nearly dying.” She interjected.

“Ah, yes, near death experiences, the best way to bring folks together.” He nodded sagely.

“Well, you _are_ better than Death.”

He pumped his fists. “Alright,” he dropped the folded sheet on to the floor and then looked up at her. “Are you ready to get a _head?_ ”

Her lips thinned. “Okay, that’s it. You’re gonna be the one carrying it back to Mercer place.”

“Fine, fine.” He rubbed his nose, “Worth it.”


End file.
